The Shadows Within Us | Grethan

2

grayson's point of view

Until...I had woke up to a warm hand pressing against my forehead. My eyes were unfocused, not used to the light, and I couldn't see the human touching me. I was confused at first because one second I was passing out in the middle of the woods, some creature dragging me to my death and the next here I am, somewhere warm and comfortable as someone feels my forehead like my mother did when my brother and I had fevers. I didn't feel particularly hot, but it could be my brain lying to me and something could be taking over my body. A virus, possibly. I did not know.

"Well, hello there," said a voice. A man's voice. I couldn't really describe this man's voice, but it sounded nice. Really nice. It's definitely the voice you want to hear when you wake up from an eternal sleep. I felt like Sleeping Beauty, and the way the man looked at me when my eyes finally focused, he thought so too. "W-Where a-am I?" I tried to speak, my voice hoarse from screaming. I honestly sounded like I was on my death bed, which I was, however long ago that was.

"You're in my cabin." Stated the man. Where was his cabin? How far away from home was I? Did my parents call the police? Were they looking for me? How badly hurt was I? What the fuck was the thing that took me and tried to kill me? I had so many questions but not enough answers. "W-Where is your cabin?" My voice broke once more, and when I swallowed, I soon found out that my throat was very dry and raw. "Let me get you some water and then we can talk." The man flashed me a quick, toothless, smile before he walked away from my sight.

As I waited for the man to get back with my water, I took an overview of my body. Whatever he had done, it improved me. I was in a lot of pain still, and probably would be for a while, but when I looked at my leg, my femur wasn't staring back at me, and my ankle wasn't hanging off my leg anymore. I assumed I couldn't move my neck because he had made something to keep me from moving it, and I thanked him inside of my head for that small little detail. I didn't know what all of my injuries were and a few were internal. There were some I couldn't see, but could feel, like the one on the back of my head.

I heard heavy footsteps, and then I saw the face of the man that took care of me again. He looked over my face quickly, before he looked into my eyes. "You won't be able to sit up because of your neck, so...you're going to have to use this straw." It was a bendable straw, thank god, and easy to use. He brought the straw to my lips and I took a few sips, coughing a bit, before my throat felt a little better. Still a bit raw, but a little better than a few minutes ago. "T-Thanks." I tried to smile, but I only winced in pain when my jaw started to ache.

"No problem. Now, you wanted to know where you are?" The man asked. I tried to nod but the man quickly stopped me. "Okay. Blink once for yes, and blink twice for no. That will be easier for you. I'm sure you're in a lot of pain." I blinked once, and the man chuckled. "Okay. We're a few hundred miles from the nearest town. We're closer to Canada but we're on the Washington state border, basically." The man explained. How I got dragged from Montana to Washington was a whole different story.

"My names Ethan by the way." The name suited him, believe it or not. "I-I'm G-Grayson." I said, wincing all the way through. Ethan nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile. "Here. Have some more water." I took a few more sips, my throat burning. More winces and a cry of pain later, Ethan was up from his seat and making me some tea and soup. Thank god for this man. While he banged dishes and hastily chopped something on a cutting board, I was left to my thoughts, which, was a bad idea.

I couldn't believe that I was in Washington miles, hours, and days, away from my home. My parents had already lost one son, how could they take losing another? After my older brother, Alex, was murdered a few years back, my parents have tried to turn me into my late older brother. Alex was mysteriously taken from his bedroom one night and was found in the middle of the woods, somewhere in Wyoming. How he got there was a mystery all in itself and Alex was not someone to run away or anything. He was a great student, an athlete, an amazing brother, and my best friend.

The police and FBI came up with bullshit for his murder and one night, random people had shown up to our door, asking where my brother was buried. Of course, my parent's had called the police and when they got there, the people were long gone and the police had rolled their eyes and muttered words under their breaths about my parents. They had looked into my parents, thinking that my parents, had killed their own son. My parents were both home when they found Alex to be missing. Or so they said. I wasn't home that night. I was getting laid at a party, stupidly, and I had last seen Alex at school that afternoon. He had cross country practice.

And now, maybe the police were right. Even kids in my class assumed it was my parents. It was one of the reasons I was so angry. I was tormented everyday by my classmates, telling me "Your parent's killed your brother" "Your next" and I let it get to me. I really did. I didn't know what to believe anymore. The only thing I could believe right now was that Ethan was in his tiny kitchen making me soup and tea to make me feel better. Truly, Ethan had the good life. He was here, all by his lonesome, but alone nonetheless, and no one bothered him. I didn't know much about him, but I wouldn't be moving anytime soon, and Ethan seemed humble enough to let me stay until I could walk again.

Which, if I diagnosed myself, wouldn't be for a few months- or more. If my injuries were so severe, and although I didn't know much, I'd have to ask Ethan, I was sure that I would be laying on this couch for quite sometime. I'd always dreamed to be a couch potato when I was little anyway, dream come true.